


Game Day

by Delphi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Frottage, Smut, Sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-29
Updated: 2010-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-13 11:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Minerva and Rolanda steal a quick tryst before the big game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Game Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Kink Bingo 2010 November Mini-Challenge: New Kinks Only! (Rubbing/Grinding)

It’s game day. The air is humming with excitement, and if it weren’t the last match of the season, Minerva might put up more than just a token protest as Rolanda yanks her into the sport shed, slams her up against the door, and kisses her like a life depends on it. Oh, not again. She reaches in her pocket and manages a locking charm just before a knee pushes between her own, causing her to drop her wand as her legs part and a well-muscled thigh presses right up against her.

Her breath catches, and she clutches at Rolanda, hands grasping at cloth and butter-soft dragonhide as she breathes in the tempting scent of quidditch leathers and arousal. “Do—” she begins to scold, meaning to say something like, “Do you really intend to...” or “Do you have any idea what would happen if someone caught us...”

But Rolanda is grinding against her, all hard leanness save where her breasts press against Minerva’s, and then there are teeth at her throat, nipping just sharply enough to threaten to leave a mark, and that “Do” hangs feebly in the air like a mewling request.

She pulls at Rolanda’s hips (all right, if they’re going to be mad, it had better be a brief madness) and rocks hard against her thigh. Her nipples tighten almost painfully with reckless excitement and the chill of the dark shed. The sound of their mingled breathing quickens, hot and obscene in the close quarters.

Her robes are hitched up, and a leather-clad hand slips up her bare thigh and into her knickers. She leans back with a gasp, bracing herself against the door and locking her arms around Rolanda’s neck as a gloved finger pushes inside her. She writhes in the tangle, every breath and motion making the friction softer, slicker, but no less intense.

Rolanda hums low and smugly, and her hips quicken. Minerva bites down hard on the inside of her cheek as her climax is wrung roughly from her. She strains up on her toes, thighs trembling as the pleasure takes her, as the gloved hand moves wickedly, as Rolanda gives an answering tremble. Then she sags back, very nearly panting, and Rolanda leans heavily against her, shivering, and claims a lax, satisfied kiss.

It is the better part of two minutes before Minerva has the coordination to untangle herself and straighten her robes and re-pin her hair. “You are absolutely impossible on game days.”

Rolanda grins, leaning against a stack of crates. Her hair looks just as it always does. “It’s contagious. Besides, this one's a lock for Slytherin.”

Minerva sniffs and reaches out to straighten the whistle hanging around Rolanda’s neck. “You realize you’re meant to be impartial.”

That earns her a glare rife with professional bristling. “I only call it as I see it.” Before Minerva can refute or repent, however, Rolanda kisses her on the tip of her nose, adding sweetly, “And I’ll be here to comfort you when your house goes down, kitten.”

With that, she swaggers out of the shed, leaving Minerva with all the length of the match ahead to consider a fitting bit of slap to retaliate for the tickle.


End file.
